#*edit: i saved this in my drafts why did it publish??

[skin-bible]

Had a patient who couldn't make it to the bathroom

Unsanitary mentioned below

Ok so, he wasn't my patient, but I had helped him these last 3 days anyway. The NA who had the patient told me i was on my own basically (both before the accident and after). He got up and walked 5 feet from his bed (bed alarm was going off also which is what alerted me that he got up, worst fear is that he's gonna fall) before his diarrhea got the best of him, along with accidental urination. It was like a mud truck peeling out and I got splashed with it.

He was so mortified that this has happened to him, and apologizing for getting it on my pants and shoes, and my usual response is "hey, don't worry, this happens to everyone!" To which he responded "but not me." He was roughly 80 and was already depressed about his body degrading and missing out on so much in life.

So I led him to the bathroom to clean him up and tell him about the times I've shit myself accidentally and even the very first time it has happened to me. He responded "But you're so young" and I told him "I call IBS 'I Be Shittin' for a reason." And I told him about the other times people I've help before who hasn't quite made it to the bathroom themselves and how some of my incontinent patients were as young as 25. Some of my stories made him laugh.

The NA I mentioned came by in the middle of me cleaning him and made audible disgusted noises and gasping out "ohhh myyyy goooddddd". I shooed them away by telling them to do something else.

After I finished cleaning up him and the mess I fixed his bed and got a bedside commode in case he has another urgency, but encouraged him calling us first before getting up (fall risk). And I thanked him by name for letting me help him, which I do for all my patients, and tried to convince him he's not a bother.

Meanwhile there's people who complain and press shame into patients who do have accidents and dehumanize them. And I keep thinking about the times I've experienced working with them firsthand and it makes me embarrassed to work with them so I try to take over their patient care for them (which in turn adds to my stress).

Some people really don't deserve this job since they treat it like a burden.

[asharasasylum]

Pretty Baby I ♡  Rafe Cameron x Step/Adopted!Sister Reader

author's note: I needed to publish something and I found this saved in my drafts. It’s in 2 parts. (Part 2 in now here) It’s not really edited either and not amazing so I’m sorry about that. I do want to say the main character is inspired by Nicola Peltz character in backroads. Please really read the warnings with this one. warnings: Dark. Abuse. Violence. Child Abuse. Parental abuse. Angst. Trauma responses. Obsession from both ends. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Toxic relationship!! Aged up characters. Step-cest. Eventual Smut. Eventual character death. 18+ MDNI

He's your saviour, your knight in shining armour but he can also be your own worst enemy.

It was your tenth birthday when your father was finally arrested. 

While he deserved it, truly deserved it, you didn’t care. 

All you could do was cry as you sat at the back of Peterkin’s car, babbling about how you just wanted to see your daddy. 

It must have been a few hours later, time rolling into the late hours of the night and you were still with Peterkin. Only you had found yourself in the police station, tear stained face as you bit at the nail of your thumb. 

“Y/N.” 

You turned to look up at Peterkin to find her standing beside a man you didn’t recognise. 

“This is Ward Cameron,” Peterkin introduced you, with a small smile. 

The man tried to give you a smile but his face dropped as soon as he took you in. You hadn’t realised how bad your appearance was then, the purple marks that covered your skin were a normality you were accustomed to. 

Peterkin took Ward a few steps from you, somewhere they thought you couldn’t hear. 

“Did he- Did he do that to her?” Ward questioned. 

Peterkin just nodded. 

“But he’s her father,” Ward was in clear disbelief as he spoke, pointing at you. 

“And now she has no one.” 

That’s all Ward apparently needed to hear, throwing his jacket over your shoulders as he directed you to his car. 

He tried to make light conversation in the car, bringing up things he thought you might like, only to find him stumbling on his words each time you said you didn’t know what he was talking about. But he never stopped trying, and you think you were glad for that. 

It was the next day that you met everyone, all of them welcoming you with open arms, excluding Rafe. 

He had glared at you, eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. It was almost as if he was waiting for the opportunity to crack your school open on the wall behind you. He just needed you to give him reason enough to do so. 

You didn’t know when he stopped looking at you like that but eventually a few years down the line you and Rafe were more akin than you had ever believed possible. Even if there was still that anger that bubbled underneath Rafe’s skin when he looked at you, a tinge of coldness behind those eyes. 

You were fifteen when Rafe saved you and at that age you still seemed to hate each other more than ever. 

“I can’t believe you’re forcing me to come to the wreck with you and your stupid friends,” you huffed, leaning against the car window. 

“Dad said I need to look after you while they’re out for a few days,” Rafe argued back, yanking your arm off of his window. “You’re going to get marks over my car.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, settling for resting your arms in your lap. “I’m sure he just meant to watch out for me, not drag me to everything you’re doing.” 

“It’s food at the wreck. I’m sure you’ll cope.” 

You didn’t know who you hated more at times, Rafe or his friends. The arrogance that radiated off of them at all times made you want to vomit in your mouth. You never understood why they bothered to come to this side of the island if all they wanted to do was sit and make jokes about the people that lived here. 

It was within ten minutes that you found yourself outside, walking along the boardwalk. The gentle North Carolina breeze brushed against your skin as you stared out into the bay. It was quiet, too cool outside for people to be lingering. 

That’s what you had thought until a familiar voice was calling your name. 

“Y/N… it’s you, isn’t it?” 

Your stomach dropped and as if your body was working on autopilot, you froze to the spot. 

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Precautions had been put in place to stop this from happening, restraining orders filed and prison walls to keep him locked up and away from you. Wherever Ward had needed to do, he had made sure to do it. 

But clearly it hadn’t been enough as your dad stood a few feet away from you, inching close every second. 

“Baby, I’ve missed you so much,” he said, hands reaching out for you. 

He looked the exact same, the blackness around his eyes from years of addiction and the cracked lips. He sounded the same too. 

And when he took a step forward, you were ten years old all over again. 

“You can’t be here,” you finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I-I had to s-see you,” he stuttered, hand reaching forward as he got closer. 

Only now you were finally walking back. 

“Baby. It’s me.” 

“You can’t be near me,” you spoke louder this time, trying to put space between the pair of you.

But your dad was faster and without warning his hand latched around your neck, yanking your body towards him. 

“Dad, please,” you pleaded, eyes wide as you tried to pry his hands from your throat. 

“It was you that put that order against me,” he spat, grip tightening. “I knew it was you.” 

He was shaking, veins popping out the side of his head. You knew the look, it was the first thing you saw when you closed your eyes at night. But it changed slightly, he had never been this enraged before. It was like he wanted to kill you, like taking his temper out on you for years wasn’t enough. 

“It was you that called the police that day, wasn’t it?” 

You shook your head, a sob caught at the back of your throat as you told him, “No, I swear.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

“I swear it wasn’t me.” 

“I did five fucking years in that prison because of you.” 

His grip was bruising and you weren’t sure if the fact you couldn’t breathe was because of his hands on your neck or because you were choking on your own sobs. 

Your ears were ringing so loud that you didn’t hear Rafe running over to you. But you saw him when his fist flew into your father’s cheek and you watched as his foot slammed into your father’s body over and over again. 

“Don’t you ever touch her,” Rafe screamed into the man’s face, dropping to his knees as he drove his fist into your father’s face. 

Kelce and Topper eventually pried Rafe off of your father, realising that he probably wasn’t going to stop until he killed him. 

You were surprised he wasn’t already dead yet, his lifeless body covered in blood and bruises as he wheezed out a breath. 

Rafe was quick to cover your view, grabbing your face in his battered hands as he held you. 

“Are you okay?” Rafe questioned, eyes staring into yours. 

You were crying, you hadn’t realised how badly until Rafe touched your soaked cheeks. 

“Why didn’t you scream for me?” His voice was panicked, blue eyes running over you to check you were okay. 

“I’m sorry,” you broke into a fit of sobs, unsure of what else to say. 

Rafe pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly as he wrapped his arms around yours. “You don’t need to apologise. You haven’t done anything wrong, Y/N.” 

Rafe didn’t leave you alone that night and you were grateful for that. It must have been hours before you calmed down, sobs turning into sniffles as Rafe consoled you. But eventually it happened. 

“No ones ever done something like that for me,” you told Rafe, eyes finally peering up at him through wet lashes. 

“I care about you,” Rafe’s voice was gentle as he spoke, a sincerity to it that you had never heard before. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” 

You chuckled then, you hadn’t meant to because what you were thinking wasn’t really funny but you had. 

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I thought you hated me,” you confessed.

“I don’t hate you.” his lips lifted into a smile then. “I guess I haven’t always been the best brother.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay. You deserve better.” 

There was a sort of silence that fell over the pair of you then. One you were eager to fill, unsure how to process Rafe’s words. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” You asked.

“Of course.” 

It was Rafe’s gentle breaths that eased you into a sleep that night, face buried into his chest as he continued to hold you. 

That was the first night of many. 

Everytime you found yourself awoken to your own gasps of breath, it was Rafe who you sought after for comfort. You’d always be knocking on his door at odd times in the night, wet round eyes looking up at him, pleading for entrance that he was so willing to give. 

It was Ward that had to intervene, finding you in Rafe’s bed one morning. 

Then sleepovers with Rafe were switched for therapy sessions and while you were desperate to get them back, you knew that going against Ward wasn’t something either of you really wanted to do. 

So you didn’t even though you always really wanted to. 

From then on it was a thin line that you and Rafe tread along. 

One that was quickly blurring with each word that slipped past his lips. 

“It’s fucking disgusting, do you know that?” Rafe spat, storming away with your phone in his hand. “Fucking throwing yourself at my friends like a slut.” 

“He gave me his number. Not the other way round,” you shouted at him, chasing him through the greenery. 

All of Rafe’s friends were staring at you, used to the constant arguments between you and your older brother by now. But luckily you had put some space between you and them, the words that were threatening to spill from your mouth you didn’t want them to hear. 

“And you were lapping every single bit of it up,” he shouted, facing you now. 

“Is that so wrong?” You asked, throwing your hands up in frustration. “I think you seem to forget that my dating life has literally nothing to do with you.” 

You could feel the anger pouring off him, nose flared and eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you. “It’s hard not to make it my business when you embarrass me in front of all my friends.” 

“Fuck you, Rafe.” You hit your hands on his chest in a pathetic hope it would hurt him. 

He seized your arm, yanking your body towards his. 

“I hate you,” you swore, wishing the words into existence. Even though you knew they’d never come true. 

Rafe saw right through you, shaking his head as he laughed. “You hate me?” 

“I fucking hate you, Rafe. You’re awful.” 

“I guess you won’t mind if I do this then.” 

Within a second your phone was smashed to the ground, his foot following it. 

You screamed at him as he did it, fists flying at him as you kept repeating that you hated him. It’s like he didn’t even hear you, didn’t even feel you as he continued to break your phone into pieces on the ground. 

“You’re a fucking psycho,” you hissed.

He turned to you, eyes clouded with a darkness that almost frightened you. Almost. 

When his hand reached to touch you, you slapped it away. 

“Let’s go,” he demanded, stepping over your phone as he walked to the direction of the car park. 

With a tearful gaze you followed him, not even bothering to pick up your shattered phone on the way. 

There was no use fighting him, not when he was like this. It’s not like you wanted to argue against him, not here anyway. There were things you were itching to say. Things that couldn’t be said in front of the likes of the people here. In front of anyone really. 

When he shoved you into the car, those feelings bubbled up into your chest, hard to ignore when his fingers touched your skin. They dragged along the column of your chest, eyes following them as they trailed upwards, reaching to grip around your throat. 

“Do you like embarrassing me?” He said, voice low as it cut through you. 

“Do you like hurting me?” You retorted back. 

He shook his head, kissing his teeth. “Don’t…” 

He bit down on his words, hand dropping as he turned away from you. 

But you knew exactly what he was going to say. 

Because you were thinking it. 

//

Rafe had been walking on eggshells around the house all evening with you. He lurked behind corners when you were around, clearly waiting for the right moment to talk to you. 

It wasn’t till you were fighting with your late night thoughts, making your way down to the kitchen for a moment of peace, that he found you.

You felt him before you heard him, feeling his body slowly gravitating towards you. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“No,” you were cold as you answered him. 

“You’re still mad at me,” he stated. 

You twisted around to look at him in the darkness of the kitchen, wanting to glare at him, to cuss him out but you struggled to find the energy to even do so. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

But he didn’t need to apologise, his words barely touching your ears when his scent was crowding your senses. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rafe shook his head, age turning away from you. “Stop.” 

“I don’t mean to,” you croaked, unable to take your wet gaze away from his face. 

He sighed, rubbing his jaw with his thumb as if taking a second to contemplate something. All it took was another look at you and it was as if his decision had already been made.

“Dad’s gone for the weekend,” he told you, eyes finally lifting up to yours. “He won't be back till Monday.” 

He didn’t need to ask, you both knew what he was saying and you both knew what your answer would be. You’d never said no to Rafe before. Why would tonight be any different? 

You always took the left side of Rafe’s bed. It was the closest to the door, easiest to get to in ungodly hours when you needed him. He was always accommodating, leaving the space for you free even after months of you not being there. It was second nature for both of you at this point, even when you didn’t want it to be. 

There was something oddly comforting about it. The fact that Rafe after months still slept on the same side of the bed as if he was always waiting for you to take the other side.

For years it had always just felt like a delusional fantasy. But in the last few months, especially with the way Rafe had been acting, you felt your mind starting to believe that the feelings you had could possibly be shared. 

It's all you could think about as you stared into his eyes, his fingers playing with yours. It’s all you thought about.

“Rafe,” you whispered. 

He hummed in acknowledgment, fingers sliding under the bottom of your top as he rubbed your sides. 

You couldn’t help but sigh at the subtle touch, stirring a heat inside you that was hard to ignore. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“You know,” You swallowed, struggling to get the right words out. 

There were so many things to say but how were you even supposed to say them? 

Rafe closed his eyes, hand tightening around your hip as he gripped onto it. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, it was more of a gentle squeeze, something you mistook as reassurance. 

It was hard not to lean into him, brushing your nose against his. Everything about it felt right, even if it was entirely wrong. 

“Rafe,” you breathed, your words touching his lips. 

His hand retracted from you and suddenly his words were saying things you didn’t want to hear. Things you hadn’t expected to hear. 

“Don’t,” it was quiet, hardly above a whisper as it left his lips. 

“What?” You were taken back entirely.

“You can’t stay in here if you’re going to kiss me,” he answered through clenched teeth. 

“Right.” 

But nothing about this felt right as you retreated from him. 

Had you completely misread all the signs? Had you really been feeding so much into your delusional fantasies that actually believed they could come true? 

His hand being snatched was like a final cord that snapped in you and just couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“So you don’t want me but you don’t want anyone else to have me?” You asked, sitting up on the bed. “Make it make sense.” 

“You’re my sister, Y/N. Am I not allowed to be over protective with you?” He retorted back.

“No, because it’s not just that,” your words were getting caught in your throat, desperate to come out. “You- You don’t act that way with a sister and you know that.” 

“You’re reading into things-“ 

“Fuck you, Rafe,” you hit at him, this time it had been with a force that meant to hurt. “I’m not crazy and don’t make me feel like I am.” 

Everything was rising to the service suddenly, all the feelings you had bottled up for years, threatening to drown you if you didn’t let them out. 

“You know how I feel.” Tears filled your eyes as you gazed down at him, pleading for some sort of reaction. 

“Maybe I step over the line of being inappropriate with you,” he tried to say. “And I don’t mean to do that but that doesn’t mean-“ 

“Oh my fucking god,” you almost laughed at his words.

He was spouting bullshit at you, words he probably told millions of other girls after leading them on for ages, only to drop them as if they were nothing more than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. 

But you weren’t just any girl. 

“You’re going to wake everyone up,” he hissed as if he was mad at you. 

You wanted to hurt him then. You had never wanted to hurt Rafe before, maybe get under his skin from time to time or push his buttons. But you wanted him to bleed for you like you did for him. 

“You’re sick,” you spat at him. 

His hand reached out towards you and you slapped it away. 

“I’m not some random fucking girl, Rafe,” you cried, shaking beside him. “You’re evil.” 

You couldn’t even look at him, too scared of how you might react. 

You needed to leave that room, try and save the last bit of sanity you might have left. 

It wasn’t hard when Rafe didn’t even try to pull you back in, not even saying anything to make you stay. 

“You know I didn’t want to say it before but you do remind me of him.” 

The last place you had expected to find yourself had been the cut, drinking and smoking with Sarah and her friends. But after a week of you wallowing in your own self pity, Sarah was growing incredibly worried. Most of your household was. 

You wondered if they knew what happened, especially with the way you acted in the house. It wasn’t hard to notice you were avoiding Rafe in your own home. You two were always drawn to each other, practically spending every second together in that house, to laugh, to chat, to fight. It didn’t matter how happy or upset you were, you were always found together. 

But every time he stepped into a room, you were looking to find the quickest exit. Never being in a room with him for longer than a second. 

You needed space from him as much as you possibly could get. As much as he would even allow you. 

You weren’t sure if Rafe knew where you were and there was some part in you that hoped he did, wanting him to be so angry with you in this second. You just wanted him to feel something for you, even if it came through a deep anger that had you flinching from him. 

You swallowed the rest of your drink at that, trying to forget even if it was just for a few seconds. But there was always something pulling you back in. 

This time it was Sarah, phone in hand as she grabbed your attention with a call of your name. 

“Yeah?” You asked, trying to muster a small smile. 

“It’s Rafe,” she told you, signaling to her phone. “He won’t stop calling me. He’s asking to speak to you.” 

“No,” you simply said but your face twisted into something hideous. 

You could tell in the way Sarah instantly listened to you, telling Rafe some excuse about why you wouldn’t talk to me. 

But you knew she wouldn’t drop it that easily. It’s why seconds later you found her sitting next to you, wearing a weary look as she took you in. 

“You know you can talk to me,” Sarah whispered, hand reaching out for yours. 

“I know,” you nodded. 

“Did something happen between you and Rafe?” She asked, squeezing your hand. 

You looked at her then, furrowing your brows. 

“Did he do something to you?” 

You snatched your hand from hers, eyes widening at her suggestion. 

“I see the way he looks at you,” she continued, a scowl sitting on her lips as the thought crossed her mind. “It’s sickening.” 

“He didn’t touch me,” you confessed.

How were you supposed to tell her that was the reason you were upset? Because he wouldn’t touch you. 

“Can’t I just be mad at him because he’s the biggest asshole on this whole island?” 

“You can say that again,” she agreed. “We all hate him here.” 

“I don’t hate him,” the words rolled off your tongue like second nature, always ready to defend Rafe even when you knew you shouldn’t.

“I don’t get it,” she sarcastically laughed, shaking her head. “I swear Rafe could burn this whole island to the ground, taking me and the rest of our family with it and you’d just hold his hand as he did it.” 

“That’s not true, Sarah.” Your face softened when you looked at her. “You mean everything to me.” 

“But Rafe means more, right?” 

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s different with Rafe. You know that.” 

“But he’s a bad person.” 

“You know how he’s been there for me. When literally no one else has. You know what he’s done for me.” 

“I know that he saved you from your dad-“ 

She reached out to touch you again but this time you didn’t want to hear it, moving to walk away. But Sarah followed. 

“I know that must have been awful for you but you can’t just let him hold that over you,” her voice grew as she chased you, catching the eyes of the group. 

“I don’t let him hold that over me.” You both knew that was a lie. 

“He treats you like shit,” she screamed at you, making you finally turn her way. “He treats everyone terribly but I honestly think he treats you the worst. I don’t get it because you just let him.” 

“You don’t have to understand,” your voice was shaky as you spoke, arms crossing over your chest. “I don’t need you to understand because honestly I don’t understand it myself.” 

“He’s never going to treat you the way you want him to treat you.” Sarah looked at you defeated, arms held up as she backed away. “It’s not in Rafe’s nature to be nice.” 

You couldn’t tell your sister that you didn’t exactly want Rafe to be nice to you. 

In reality you couldn’t care if he was nice to you.

You enjoyed it when he was mean to you, bitter words cutting through you when he wanted to get under your skin. 

And sure if the only way he was going to touch you would be a bruising grip on your wrists or his hand wrapped around your throat, you’d take it. 

But you did also crave for him to be nice to you, sweet like when he soothed your cries with his fingers grazing your back. His voice gentle as he hushed you, lying beside you in his bed. 

You wanted every bit of Rafe you could get, the good and the bad. You wanted all of it for yourself. 

But that wasn’t happening anytime soon, not with his arm draped around some random girl. 

You hadn’t known why you forced yourself to come to this party, the annual bonfire was usually something you attended with Rafe by your side. It was your thing. 

The idea of booze and friendly faces, had been a nice idea earlier this morning. But as you stared around the familiar faces, you felt nothing but dread. 

Dread at the thought that this was how life was going to be. A constant numbness holding your body captive. 

“You want another one?” JJ asked, holding a can out for you. 

“Thanks,” you nodded, taking it from his hands.

“You know you don’t have to stand over here by yourself,” JJ stated, bumping his elbow with yours. “We don’t bite even if Rafe says we do.” 

Your face flushed in embarrassment at that, you didn’t want them to think you thought of them like that. There had been days when you possibly had judged them too harshly, you had never meant to, it was just easier to listen to Rafe then. 

Even though you could tell JJ meant it as a joke, your lips parted instantly wanting to defend yourself.

“It’s not like that,” you tried to reassure him. “I’m just-“ 

“I’m joking with you,” he chuckled lightly. 

Your body relaxed at that and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“You want to talk about what’s got you so down?” He asked, taking space beside you. “Or are you one of those that drinks their problems away.” 

You took another swig from your, answering his questions. 

“I see.” 

“I’m not actually much of a drinker if I’m honest,” you told him. “My- uh-” You weren’t sure why you were saying it but JJ made you feel comfortable, feeling the honesty slip from you. 

“Your dad?” The amused tone had dropped from his voice, smile faded as he took a swig from his beer. “I know the feeling, trust me.” 

“Yeah.” You forget that almost everyone knew about your situation. Rafe’s saviour moment when you were fifteen had been spread across all local newspapers. 

“But you know can’t let trauma hold you back.” He pressed the bottle to his lips with a smirk and a wink in your direction. “When in Rome.” 

You laughed at that, catching you off guard as you responded, “We’re not in rome.” 

“I know.” He shrugged, smiling along with you. 

JJ would be good for you. He seemed sweet and genuine, he understood a lot of the trauma you had gone through. You had heard enough about him through Sarah and Kiara when they were around and if he treated girls anything like how John B treated Sarah, you were sure he would be a catch. 

But as your eyes peered into his and your laughter died down, you could only think of one person. The same person who was burning holes in the back of your skull as you turned to face him. 

Rafe was still standing on his side of the bonfire but the girl that had been all over him before was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t walk over to you, didn’t say anything or motion to follow him but as feet took off, you already found yourself making an excuse. 

“I’m really sorry but I got to run,” you told JJ, trying your best to give him an apologetic glance. 

He nodded, not seeming too disappointed nor surprised at your sudden departure but there was a slight look of confusion on his face. 

You ignored it, not really caring about it as you pushed yourself to your feet. All you could think about was following Rafe’s larger steps, letting him lead you to where all the cars were parked, where no one else would be able to see you. 

His truck was in a secluded area, parked by trees that shadowed it. It wasn’t close to any walkways and it was enclosed by other surrounding cars. 

It didn’t surprise you when you were suddenly slammed to Rafe’s door, a hand wrapping around your throat to keep you held there. He always lurked in the eerie silence, waiting for a moment to pounce Rafe, especially when it came to you. But what had surprised you was how tight his grip was, finding yourself wheezing for air as you looked at him. 

“You like slutting it out for pogues, hmm?” He hissed, leaning into you. 

Even in the darkness you could see how blown out his eyes were, the light shade of blue being overpowered by black. When his grip tightened even more, you actually became frightened, eyes widening at the sight of him. 

“Like opening your legs for trash?” He spat. 

You let out a strangled breath, becoming frantic as you tore at his hand to get off. Normally that was all that it would take but today Rafe wasn’t letting up and your pleas were being ignored. 

“So angry with me that you would debase yourself like that. I mean my friends were one thing.” He shook his head, jaw clenching as tears glazed his eyes. “But fucking JJ Maybank.” 

He dropped you then, letting you collapse to the ground as he took a step away from you. 

You were gasping for breath, hand holding onto your neck in disbelief of what had just happened. 

All of a sudden Sarah’s words rang in your head and you thought maybe you didn’t want to be treated like this anymore. 

“I can’t even look at you right now.” 

Your head twisted around at that, finding Rafe’s pacing form as you said, “You can’t look at me right now?” Tears were streaming down your face as you took a second to get up, staring at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

Rafe turned around, eyes narrowing at you. 

“You’re exactly like him-” 

“Don’t fucking start with that bullshit,” He went to argue, pointing in your face. 

“No, you are,” you laughed, finally realising. “You’re exactly like my dad. Everytime you hurt me you always have a reason to blame me. It’s always my fault.” 

Rafe smirked at that, nodding as if he was in agreement. “Yeah, it’s why you always come running back when I apologise. So eager for more.” 

Your hand connected with his face and you heard it before you felt it. Your hand stung afterwards and when Rafe began to laugh as a reaction, you immediately regretted it. 

“Is it my turn?” He questioned, a smug smirk on his lips. 

“You’re sick.” Tears were streaming down your face, painting your cheeks and chin. Yet he didn’t seem to care one bit. 

He only turned away, stepping round the truck and calling out to you. “Get in.” 

Without hesitation you did. 

(Dividers by @cafekitsune)

[morrieandlicky]

Edward Carpenter's full response letter to E.M. Forster after reading Maurice in 1914.

(The images of the letter can be found here at King's College's archive. Below is my transcription followed by photocopies of the letter. )

PS: 1) "MS" is the abbreviation for "manuscript".

23 Aug. [1914?]

My dear & blessed E.M.,

(I wish you had a name. Why do you always hide behind initials? What do your friends call you? My name is Edward, or ‘chips’!)

I have read your ‘Maurice’ after all, and am very much pleased with it. I don’t always like your rather hesitating tantalizing impressionist style - though it has subtleties - but I think the story has many fine points. You succeed in joining the atmosphere with the various characters, and there are plenty of happenings which is a good thing. Maurice’s love affairs are all interesting, and I have a mind to read them again, if I can find time - so I won’t send the MS back for a day or two. I am so glad you end up on a major chord. I was so afraid you were going to let Scudder go at the last - but you saved him and saved the story, because the end though improbable is not impossible and is the one bit of real romance - which those who understand will love.

I wish I could write more, but I am devoured just now by innumerable things. I expect to be in and about London from the 1st to 8th Sep. - so give me a cue to see you.

Your Edward C.

Transcription of vertical writings on the second page of the letter: 

I am sending my birthday reply to the papers on Sep. 1 with a lot about the war in it. 

Only a small part of the letter has been transcribed then included in reviews, or different Maurice editions. Which is why I wanted to transcribe the whole response from the real-life Maurice to the author of fictional Maurice after he read Maurice. The entirety is far more interesting.

Below: Edward Carpenter in 1886 and 1897.

Some contexts: based on Forster's diaries, Maurice was first finished in June/July, 1914, so Carpenter did read the first complete MS—with or without the epilogue is unclear since there's no solid proof for when the epilogue was written (though it appeared in the novel by February 1915 at the latest.)

However, since Carpenter said he liked the happy ending he read (and fun fact: the first complete MS which he read actually had a fairly different ending between Maurice and Alec than the published version's), we know that even from the first draft, Forster remained unwavering about how a happy ending is imperative.

More contexts: according to a letter from Forster to a friend, he thought Carpenter was "too unliterary to be helpful"—meaning Carpenter probably wasn't much interested in reading literature. And Carpenter sort of confirmed that in writing "I read your 'Maurice' after all", implying he was indeed reluctant to read at first.

Still, it made absolute sense for Forster to send the story back to the man who, in a manner of speaking, held the copyright of Maurice in flesh before Forster even finished it.

So the question is: did Carpenter know that Maurice was inspired by him and his lover George Merrill? Did he know that he was the real-life Maurice and Merrill was the real-life Alec? Perhaps that was why he was reluctant to read the novel at first?

[paarksunghoon]

do you have any practical writing tips?

I sure do!

1. refrain from making your first paragraph describing the weather and season if you’re not going to do anything with it. it’s overdone and tells me nothing about your story. the goal is to hook your reader and make them care about your body of work at the start of your story. instead of talking about the sun shining, introduce your character and start with dialogue or what they’re up to. try talking about what’s happening in the events of the story. if you really want to talk about how the sun is shining, tell me why I should care that it is.

example: “Today is Tuesday, October 29, and the sun is shining. Although, that puts a damper on my mood because I do not feel particularly happy.”

2. write your dialogue the way you would talk. sometimes you don’t need to go the whole nine yards and think about why people talk the way they do unless that’s important for your fic. when I write enha, it’s challenging to write dialogue for 7+ people in the same conversation but you have to imagine you’re the person they’re talking to. how would you react if X said Y?

3. ask yourself “so what?” and “why does this matter?” when you feel stuck. why should character X care that character Y said what they did? why should your reader care that character Y is acting the way they are? if they do something—so what? why are they doing it? what are they thinking? when you have your answer, write it down.

4. do not skip editing. if you want to be satisfied by your work, you will need to read over your story at least once to catch typos, plot holes, and sentence structures so you don’t lose your mind when you inevitably reread it on your dash. saves you a lot of embarrassment in the long run.

5. you cannot edit a blank page. the first draft is the rough draft. write to your heart’s content and make a decision about it after you have words on a page.

6. when you inevitably hit writer’s block (it will happen, don’t fight it), sometimes the best way to get over it is to abandon that wip for the time being and start a new one. sometimes you need to experience Life and explore your other literary ideas before you get an ‘aha’ moment and know where you want to take your story.

lastly, and most importantly: do not write because you want notes. don’t write and publish because you want people to praise you. it will leave you unsatisfied. write because you have something to say.

[nobodysdaydreams]

20 Questions for Writers

@myfairkatiecat Thanks for the tag, sorry this took so long. (@sophieswundergarten thanks for the reminder 💕)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

8 so far. It's not a lot, but I make up for it in length.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

417,645 💀

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Exclusively tmbs so far, but I plan on doing some Wolf359 fics when I (finally) finish the podcast. Sadly all my ideas are long. I'm sorry.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Since I have so few fics I'll just give the list:

S.O.S., by a lot. I'd like to thank the show's cancellation for my unexpected success.

The Oldest Siblings , mainly due to it's association with SOS (it's the prequel in the series)

Treat Them With(out) Mercy

Who You Were Meant To Be

A Joy To Obey and It Should Have Been Us are tied

The Boys Who Waited

Sirens of the Sea and Sky: dead last with 3 modest kudos. This fic is the equivalent of having a kid in a school recital who screams the whole time and knocks down the set. He might be a disaster, but he's my kid and I'm proud. This fic is ridiculous, but it makes me laugh anyway. I don't know how burnt out finals Bods came up with this, but by golly...she did.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Of course! I think I've responded to every comment I've ever gotten (if not I'm so sorry please let me know). I appreciate every one of them, and I love talking about the ideas in my idea and the fics I write, so please know that every comment you leave totally brightens my day! 🥰

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hm. Right now "The Boys Who Waited" probably has the angstiest and most ominous ending, but we'll see what happens.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably "A Joy To Obey" since it's my main fluff fic with a nice ending. A great read if you like lighter stuff.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Not yet. If I did, I'm not even sure what I'd do. Depends on the hate. I might cry. I might laugh, honestly. I don't think I'm nearly important, good, or noticeable enough for that so I might be a little flattered ngl (unless it was something vulgar or hateful towards a certain group of people then I'd delete and block the person). I'm sure people have read my writing and not liked it, but I think they just click away.

9. Do you write smut?

No, that's not for me. Especially because I'm writing for a children's fandom, I just don't think that's appropriate.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No, but I've done some AU's on tumblr.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Also this is a small fandom so if a fic of mine DID get stolen, it would be pretty awkward and obvious. Don't plagiarize kids.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'd be honored if anyone wanted to do that!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

No, but that could be fun!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Why the MV Shortcut, of course! /jk

I don't really have a lot of ships I get super invested in, I prefer platonic relationships. If I think of one I'll let you guys know.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

You'll find out. (Don't worry about SOS. I promised I'd finish it and I intend to keep my word).

16. What are your writing strengths?

According to my readers, dialogue, characterization, themes, weaving multiple storylines together, and plot twists.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I can't write a short fic to save my life, and I can't edit to save my life. I also just publish my first drafts because I have no impulse control (sorry).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Funny enough I’ve done this, but only canon MBS dialogue where I've translated it directly from the show's subtitles. If I made an error, please let me know.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Mbs, and so far just mbs. Hoping to expand someday when I magically have more time (and finish Wolf359).

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

SOS, just because of what a fun journey it's been.

Tags: @phtalogreenpoison @oflightningandstars @mvshortcut @sqenthusiast @itsgoghtime @amphibious-entity @mysteriouseggsbenedict and anyone who hasn't been tagged yet but wants to do it (sorry if I accidently double tagged)

[squarebracket-trickster]

Author Ask Tag Game

A huge SORRY and thank you to @mjparkerwriting for tagging me in this waaaaay back in August (what the heck - how did this happen haha).

What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

That sometimes being a strong, independent woman isn't enough. Sometimes we can't succeed alone or even with the help of loyal friends. Sometimes it really does take structural, systemic change and that change doesn't happen in a single life time.

As for why I chose this theme... I didn't really. I started with a premise (princess runs away from arranged marriage and accidentally falls in love with guy she was betrothed to). When I turned that premise into a plot with stakes I decided to have something that pressured the protagonist to go back to her marriage. The thing I chose was needing to prevent a war. The theme just kind of emerged from the tension between her saving her people and not being trapped in a marriage she didn't want.

2. What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

Southern England (loosely) in 1333 AD and some other cultures that would have been in contact with, bordering, or having diaspora in England (Wales, France, Breton, Al Andalusia, Persia, Byzantine Empire, Jewish diaspora, and like one thing from Scotland).

Other inspirations include a few Shakespeare comedies, how Tolkien uses English speech patterns to indicate social class, the Robin Hood myth, and Tennyson's poem "The Splendour Falls".

4. How many chapters is your story going to have?

Draft 2 had 15 chapters averaging between 3000-5000 words. I've already broken up one of those chapters in draft 3 and will probably break up more. So, at least 16? But I might split them all in half if I decide they are too many pages when I finally change the page size of my manuscript from standard word doc to book-sized. So maybe around 30?

6. When and why did you start writing?

The immersive daydreamer who loves to read to fandom to CinemaSins to film and tv show critique YouTube to writing advice YouTube to I'm gonna write my daydreams down so I can reread them for fun to I want to try my hand at a properly structured novel (but it's just for me) to dammit, I've put so much work in I want to polish this and publish it one day Pipeline is very, very real.

7. Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers on Tumblr do you follow?

You can edit a bad draft. It is so much easier to fix something than to make something from scratch. Your first draft is not an adequate reflection of your abilities as a writer - neither is your second, neither is your third. Asking for help is a skill, rewriting is a skill, workshopping is a skill, googling writing advice is a skill, taking a break is a skill. Your novel isn't your best work until it's done - feedback, and breaks, and months of writer's block and all. Push through. You're not a bad writer, or a good one for that matter, until there is a finished product to judge. I know looking at an unfinished draft riddled with problems can be demoralizing but you will find those problems and you will fix them. Just be patient.

I'm gonna steal MJ's idea and tag seven of my "other writers" - seven because that's how many questions are on in tag game.

@zeenimf, @ambiguouspuzuma, @macabremoons, @lexiklecksi, @sleepyowlwrites (though you've probably been tagged 1000 times in this haha), @stesierra, @ettawritesnstudies

[pb-dot]

Introducing: The Thereafter Release Newsletter

Big news everybody! As of today, I open up for subscriptions to the Thereafter release newsletter, which is the method I have chosen to release my serial novel Thereafter. The first chapter is slated to be released on May 1st at 13:00 GMT, with subsequent chapters coming out on the 1st and 15th every month until I change the schedule or the story is done. Back-of-the-book-brief and a bit of a Q&A below the cut

The year he turned 13, Michael Sørstrand saved the world of the Molefolk from the tyranny of the Lightlord and his armies. It’s been mostly downhill for him after that. Now, 20 years later, Michael finds himself spirited away by magic yet again. The world he finds himself in is stranger and more chaotic by a long shot than the serene caves of the Molefolk. Something defying description has destroyed the world of the Molefolk and countless other magical worlds. The survivors and refugees of these innumerable worlds that have banded together in the ramshackle town of Therafter, built from what parts of their worlds they could salvage. It is here they have called upon Michael to once again take on the mantle of hero to provide hope and inspiration for the disparate masses of survivors. The good news? The wizards and warlocks in charge of Thereafter have managed to summon three other heroes through the void between worlds. The bad news? They’re all messed up in their own, unique ways, and they don’t play particularly well with others, either. Now, Michael and his fellow ex-heroes must rediscover what heroism they once had, find peace with each other and themselves, and ask what it means to be heroes in an imperfect world. They’ll have their work cut out for them. The city of Thereafter is rife with desperate crime and runaway magic, and the calamity that shattered the countless worlds is still out there, somewhere.

Q: Is there any cost associated with subscribing to the story of Thereafter?

A: Subscribing to the Thereafter story release newsletter is free and will remain free for the duration. If I get enough subscribers that staying on the buttondown free plan becomes unfeasible (100+ subscribers), I will open a patreon or similar crowdfunding page to help pay for the costs associated with the upgrade to a paid plan.

Q: Why are you sending this story out there for free?

A: At a point in my work on the first draft of His Impossible Brushstrokes I realized that I love writing too much to put writing entirely on pause while I edit Brushstrokes and The Clockwork Boy. Rather than get started on yet another manuscript to try to sell to an open-minded indie publisher, I decided to just get some of my writing out there.

Q: Why Buttondown?

A: I did some light research on the topic of newsletter services, and found Buttondown's approach to be the most promising for a small operation like mine. The first tier of paid plans is also more reasonable than what substack can offer.

Q: Does Thereafter have an age limit?

A: As I'm not a children's developmental psychologist, I feel ill-equipped to answer this question. I will however say that Thereafter is a story intended for mature audiences, both in that coarse language and references to sexual acts as well as not-insignificant descriptions of violence feature prominently, but also in that the feeling of being an adult and the often painful contrast with the potential of youth is a pivotal part of the narrative. As such, I suggest "adulthood" as the recommended reading age.

Q: Will you tag potentially upsetting material?

To the best of my ability, yes. I can't guarantee I'll catch every single one, but I will do my best, and I'll do my best to amend any glaring omissions in the archived posts.

Q: Speaking of archival, how will that work?

Buttondown archives every mail sent out, and I will post archived chapters to my Cohost under the tag Thereafter Chapters a week after they go out. This way, the Newsletter is the primary source for new chapters, while allowing for multiple ways of back reading depending on individual preferences.

Q: What's your stance on fanworks, remixes, and similar works?

Thereafter is distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution Noncommercial ShareAlike license, which is to say that you're free to make works based on or remixing anything in it, provided you do attribute the source, make no money off it, and make your work available under the same license. On a less legalese level, I adore fanworks, but I will personally not read fanfiction of my work as I'm worried about picking up ideas, concepts or interpretations from these subconsciously. I should also mention that I am not super strict about these things, just smack a Thereafter tag in there (and maybe @ me if you feel brave and cool) and we're gravy.

Q: How might your readers interact with you and the community?

Buttondown does not feature a comment section to the best of my knowledge, but I encourage anyone who has thoughts or something to say about the chapters to give the #Thereafter tag here or on cohost some love. If you have questions or a message for the author, contact me here on Tumblr, or on the aforementioned Cohost. I respond to tagged posts, Asks, DMs if we're moots, or you seem legit, the whole bag.

Q: Would you fight 100 duck-sized horses or 1 horse-sized duck?

Ok, this is getting silly, time to wrap it up. (The 100 duck-sized horses, easily. Horses are flesh machines made to break in stupid ways, ducks remember being dinosaurs and giving them a chance to relive the glory days seem like a massive mistake.)

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

WIP Questionaire

Using an open tag from @sleepy-night-child

1. What’s the first part of your WIP that you created?

A character that no longer exists. I guess the first thing that is still there is Mika actually! Mika is a major character, but not exactly a main character (Like I rank Terran and Raymond above her as MCs), and she was a major character in the original draft, too. Her character is mainly the same, except the original MC saw her sweeter, gentler sides and Terran mostly sees her petty, angry sides. After that I'd saay Zachary, who's also been there from the beginning. Both Mika and Zachary were created before Terran was even born.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Ooh. I think if this was a show it's be a netflix original miniseries-- idk it just has that vibe I think? But probably a Sam Tinnesz song since I have a ton of him on my WIP playlist and they all definitely fit. I also thought of Landmines by BELLSAINT.

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

Damn, I love all my characters. I don't think I could have characters I don't love. I do think Terran is in a way my favorite-- like, this was a story I had abandoned, but I loved Terran so much I went back to it and took him and had the others follow suit. So yeah, he's my fave. I guess i love his struggle, how scared he is of himself, and how much he tries without even realizing he is-- and how much he is growing.

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fanbase would share?

I'm assuming this means other things they would also like? I kind of hope I Hunt Killers fans find it. But also there are a ton of books I know of that feel a similar genre, basically the things I read... trying to think of more well known things or non-books, I think... Maybe White Collar? XD. I don't know.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Can I say writing it? I guess the biggest one is finding time and energy to work on it. Lately I haven't done anything with it because I have work, social commitments, and dnd to plan every week. Plus rest, doing chores/errands, and reading. No time.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Not really, I don't put a lot in. There's a cat that shows up at one pint that Mika is petting before she and Terran have arguement, but that's about it.

I will say, in Second Chance I decided the MC has a cat names Spoons.

7. How do your characters travel/get around?

Walking. Terran hates doing anything but walking, and they're in a city that's not so big that he can't. Right now though they are venturing outside the city and traveling by train.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I guess I'm leading into Act 3 or right at the beginning of it? I know I've passed the midpoint, and it's been a bit since I have. And I think I can see the climax in sight.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) you think will draw your audience in?

I think what would most interest me about the WIP is the moral struggle and the crime aspects. Like, "Assassin who saved someone's life and now doesn't know if he can escape or should just pretend he never did that" is just super appealing to me and I hope it is to others. Also I kinda hope Rayran will draw people in because they're fantastic.

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

To finish it? That this one is able to be edited into something really good, that it can be published and enjoyed.

Tagging: @cowboybrunch @writingamongther0ses @betweenthetimeandsound @late-to-the-fandom @surroundedbypearls @cljordan-imperium @junypr-camus @thegreatobsesso @scribe-of-stories @ceph-the-ghost-writer and anyone else who wants to feel free

[fallingshrike]

I find myself in something of a predicament.

In light of the news that Wattpad is purging stories, I decided to hop to it and delete my account there before anything further happens. Better if I delete everything I had there on my own terms, I suppose.

Turns out, visiting my Wattpad account is a blast to the past, way back in 2015. Nearly a decade ago. From what I could tell from the publishing dates, I was active on Wattpad for about four months in summer, May to August.

My account is practically frozen in time.

In my profile, I still introduced myself (why did I use my real first name?), still made dry and blunt welcomes (my sense of humor back then was nonexistent), still made a list of songs I listened to (I cannot believe that little aspect persists even now).

There were four stories that I had written there on my account. Three stories published, one story forever confined in a draft. I recovered them all, saved the copies, then deleted them off the account, then deleted the account off Wattpad.

Here lies my predicament.

I could repost the stories on AO3, list them under a pseudonym in my account. After all, they were the first stories I had ever written and posted online, the first time I had ever tried to express myself in words instead of drawings. My words are my own.

On the other had, oh my god, the stories I wrote in 2015 are... embarrassing. It's coherent, and surprisingly enough I can pick out some absolute gems in the prose. But fuck if I knew how to keep the story cohesive, because it reads like a wandering transcription of my daydreams. Clearly I was more into the OC-self-insert melodramatic sensory imagery than actually telling a meaningful plot, and the plot was loose at best. And I wrote 52 chapters total of this stuff, which is bonkers. The main story I had was 46 chapters long, and I was entirely aware that on chapter 46 I was writing myself into a dead-end, but couldn't be arsed to change that. There was potential, I could see what I was trying to go for, I just typed the whole thing out in one go and didn't edit for shit. My words were my own, and I hoarded them all.

So. Yeah. I'm not sure what to do with these stories now. Should I archive, or should I not... I suppose I should be glad that my stories never received much attention at all, but I still do hold some fondness for them. After all, my words were my own, and a reflection of who I once was.

Maybe one day I'll rewrite the whole thing, and then post the original copy afterwards.

[annwrites]

I know I'm about to disappoint a number of people with this, but I'd rather just put it out there, instead of leaving my readers waiting for something I've now decided isn't going to happen.

I will not be doing the Aemond x SG (reader) happily-ever-after AU.

Reasons why under the cut:

I want to preface by saying I have started a draft of it, which I will be keeping saved on my Google Drive, incase I ever change my mind one day and/or find a way to edit it that will please me.

Now, for the reasons why I've chosen to abandon the one-shot:

There is no feasible way for me to write it which will keep canon events in-place, or keep SG & Aemond both in-character.

I initially wanted the HEA myself, but, at this point, I feel like if I published it, it would be solely for fan-service. Something I myself detest. I hated when GoT did it, & I've hated when HotD has done it.

SG would never be happy in any of the Free Cities, due to slavery. The only one she would ever find a modicum of contentment in would be Braavos—a place most unfit for a dragon to reside, due to most of it being under water.

And please don't suggest I send them to Sothoryos or Yi-To or Leng or something. Bc, just... No.

Aemond is not going to abandon Vhagar so they can go live on a floating island somewhere. Which leaves them with little other possibilities of where to relocate.

And, say I went with my one anon's idea of having them make a pact with the Price of Pentos like Daemon did (he gives them refuge in exchange for Vhagar's protection against the Triarchy). SG would be forced to make slaves answer to her & Aemond would live out his days doing naught. Riding Vhagar, taking long walks on the beach, etc. He'd feel, effectively, useless.

And once the Dance broke out? He'd be chomping at the fucking bit to return to Westeros to go to war. And for him to fight against SG's half of the family? It'd rip them apart.

If he stayed just to make her happy, he'd come to resent her, bc he would feel gelded. Having his dragon, his knowledge of battle-planning, skills with a sword all for nothing.

Say I make it so the Dance never happens. I'm just abandoning canon in such a major way that I don't feel comfortable with. Like. Aemond exists in ASoIaF bc of the Dance—not the other way around.

And I don't see their families not coming after them in some form. Whether that's Jace flying to Essos to try & retrieve his twin, or Aegon or Otto sending men after Aemond, they'd never live in peace. Not for the first few years there, at least.

And Aemond is just... Not a healthy match for her. I'm sorry. I myself have tried to change a toxic male partner & the shit cannot be done. He is obsessed with his niece. If she put a toe too far out of line, he would come to show his true colors & she would permanently live in fear of him for the rest of her days.

And that fear would only further embolden his efforts to keep her. He would see it as her not loving him as she's "meant" to, which, must, by extension, mean she may leave him. Time to batten down the hatches & ensure she has no place left to run.

The phrase "if I can't have you, no one can" comes to mind.

So, that brings me to what I may still eventually write: the tragic ending fic for the two of them.

The events of Sons & Daughters chapters 1-8 would be canon, as well as all of the outtakes, minus perhaps the Cregan pregnant sex one—I'd have to figure that one out. But it would start immediately after the Harrenhal outtake ended. It's why that chapter ended so abruptly: I was setting up for this potential fic.

Make NO mistake: this AU would NOT be canon. Chapter 9 is what is canon.

This fic would simply exist to explore a terribly dark "what if" version of my story. And it will include many triggering scenes. Posts will be tagged accordingly when/if the time comes.

Well, that's all I really had to say about this lol. Feel free to still send me your thoughts/commentary. I'd be surprised if a couple people didn't try to talk me back into the happy fic & out of the dark one, but I think my mind is pretty-well made up about it. Sorry!

[danniswrites]

My writing turned totally around in Jan 2022. I was editing my latest NaNoWriMo project, and decided to check out a resource I found on nanowrimo.org to help me. Basically, I wanted help to write a dynamite blurb, or tagline. When I create a new story, I use a LibreOffice template I created to put my title page, copyright page with a sentence describing what the story's about, TOC, and a dummy first paragraph with my first dummy paragraph heading.

I wanted to know how to write better taglines.

So I read the article above and the light bulb went on! Simple. Elegant. Plotting.

I had always been a pantser. Never planned any part of my stories, and I have about 650 of 'em, half not even to the first draft. Dedicated pantser. In my teen years, I hated English literature in 8th grade even though I knew I needed to know how to plot, but all the analysis of the books we read [and I enjoyed reading them] just made me feel like, 'I'm too stupid to learn all this.'

Now, I'm reading these 10 steps and had an epiphany!

So, I broke down Step 1 and made it into my worksheet for coming up with taglines.

Here's how I think about those 15 max words to get it done:

One Sentence Summary: Adj.+Noun+Verb+Obj [Worker] [Action] [Effect] in 15 words or less Character With Most To Lose: What They Want:

So, for Adia, Scientist, here's what I came up with:

Discouraged scientist must discover a new fuel so her colony can escape from war.

I write science fiction and I loved chemistry in college, so, hey, I like formulas. I don't want my writing to sound like it came from a formula, but if you look at a lot of genres, there is one.

If you read enough romances, like my sister did, you figure out there's a pattern you can follow as a writer. I was there when she did. She went on to become famous and actually got an award presented to her in New York from her idol, Barbara Cartland at a writer's conference.

I--uh, I'm the non-famous sister who self-publishes on Amazon. But I enjoy my writing life, and though I do love to put romance in my books, romance writing is not my thing.

However, if you're like me and you want to improve your writing, Snowflake Method does work for a lot of us. And, if you buy one of Randy Ingermanson's very entertaining books, you get a free copy of his Snowflake Pro software, which walks you through each step and lets you see what you wrote in the previous step.

I don't do all 10 steps. Let's face it, I'm a plantser now. I'm not that meticuolous and organized. But, I do most of them, because Steps 1-5 give me a nice head start. And, Steps 3, 5 and 7 concentrate on your characters. Characters make your story. If you don't have a character that grabs your reader from the first chapter, why will they want to read your story? You have to have someone to care about and they have to have something happening that attracts the reader.

Now that I had a loose framework for my stories, I needed to [finally] learn something about plot structure more than the beginning, 3 disasters, and an ending. Randy does an excellent job of simplifying 3 act structure [though there are other methods such as PlotDot or Save The Cat that also work with Snowflake Method].

Another resource I found while exploring resources in the Now What? Revision pages on nanowrimo.org was K. M. Weiland's wonderful site:

This lady puts 3 act structure into terms that I can understand, and she has a vast database of books and movies that she's analyzed for us. If you think 3 act structure is complicated and boring, try reading a little of your favorite on this list:

I love the Marvel movies, so here's how she summarized The Avengers.

And she even mentions how what works in this movie would not, in a book. This is something I read time and time again about science fiction writing. Science fiction movies are not 'true' science fiction, for the most part. Star Wars is fantasy set on other planets. Star Trek has science in it, but again, is science fantasy.

In science fiction, science drives the story more than characters or plot. Though, to make my science fiction more accessible to a wider audience, I choose to concentrate on psychology, particularly interpersonal relationships. I do make sure that my science is feasible and believable, and explain it simply. And, I do my research.

So, when writing a book, it's good to see analyses like this of movies, but remember, it's different for books.

A friend who was also a producer told me, for a two-hour movie, you have to choose about two chapters for your script. The director has to insert some points to connect the dots. That's why many movies 'aren't like the book' they're based upon. It's an art to take a book and condense it like that so it still makes sense and absorbs the viewer.

But, we writers can learn much from movies about character development and how to get our readers involved with them, and with our stories.

[cariboll]

What just happened?

This is the only place on socials that I feel I can fully put into words what's happened to me today.

It started out fairly annoying, I woke up 2 hours before I should have been up. It then became "why am I here?" when it took 2 hours to be called in for a simple blood draw.

And then...I found out that I placed as a quarterfinalist in a screenwriting contest. This is the first time I have ever placed with a script, and it was with a pilot variation of the feature film script that I wrote to get my MA in film. This was the second contest that I heard from, and I didn't place at all in the first, so I am still in shock over this.

I used to work in the fine arts department of my local county fair. I was taught that getting any kind of award, even honorable mention, means something because it means that you have made someone feel something enough that they couldn't just shrug their shoulders and walk away, saying "yeah, it's okay." Honorable mention means something. Quarterfinalist means something.

So why do I feel so weird about it?

The pilot is only a second draft. Yes, I've been working on it for almost 3 years in various forms (short, feature, pilot), but it doesn't seem like I should have submitted it. And yet I did.

I've been writing fanfiction since I was 12. In fact, my first fanfic was a script (it was never published anywhere and I'm pretty sure the file is now corrupted since it was saved to a floppy). And yet, this feels like a bigger win than getting positive feedback in comments on a fic. And it shouldn't. Writing fanfiction is just as important, maybe even more than, as any original story that could ever be written. Writing fanfiction means taking something that you LOVE with everything that you are and saying "hey, look, this may be a crappy story, but I love this fandom, and I had to write something to show everyone my love, even if you hate it, this is my love.

I guess script writing is the same. I've written these 46 pages. I've submitted them. Saying to the contest readers "please read my work, my life, my love, and tell me what you think."

I am shaking. Literally shaking (yes, it might be low blood sugar, but I think it's shock). Why did I place? I have an analysis to read, a script to edit, two more scripts to finish and submit to a workshop contest. I should be focusing on other things. So why am I freaking out?

While I've posted about my placement on other socials, here feels friendlier than most. Here we show our love and our hate and our appreciation and our creativity and and and...everything that makes us who we are.

I don't care if no one reads this. I just had to write down everything that I'm feeling.

If you go this far, thank you.

[somerandommess]

Maxiel Au, writer Max;editor Dan. On Ao3 :) here. It’s like 3000 words so below is just a snippet. Enjoy? :)

Jimmy and Sassy

The tail of how two cats explore the world

Book 3: Jimmy & Sassy become pawtectives

Written by Max Verstappen

Illustrated by Charles Leclerc

Draft

“You cant possibly think editing this book yourself is a good idea”

“I do think it’s a good idea. I’m not going to send off my book to some random editor. I know what I wrote, I can edit it!”

“It’s not that I don’t think you can edit it, it’s just that you already have so much work doing.”

This is a conversation that Max and Charles have had several times since Max finished writing his latest book.

Ever since he published the first Jimmy&Sassy book, his agent Christian had been on his back about the next books in the series. Max never expected the books to gain such popularity, but apparently cats getting into trouble was what 7-9 year olds around the world demanded.

Max got up from his place at the breakfast bar and made his way to the fridge, stealing a piece of toast from Charles as he went. He frowned and shoved a bit of omelette in his mouth , watching as Max took his last yogurt.

He didn’t really want the yogurt, but since Charles brought up this topic for the third time this week he figured why not. Out of spite.

He walked to the couch, yogurt in hand, sat down and picked up his laptop. He placed the yogurt down in favor of his mouse and opened the draft of Jimmy&Sassy. Highlighted words and comments greeted him as he scrolled down to where he stopped late last night.

Jimmy gave Sassy a remorseful look. Perhaps the dog from across the street hadn’t stolen the catnip from Mrs.Hoffer, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t commit a crime. Sassy blinks at him but says nothing. Jimmy knows she’s discontent-

“You see! Discontent, remorseful! What seven year old is going to know what discontent is?” Charles exclaimed from behind him.

Max jumps. He didn’t hear Charles sneaking up behind him. He blames it on the lack of sleep.

“They can get a dictionary,” Max responds. It’s what I did he leaves out. He knows Charles gets uncomfortable when he talks about his childhood. About Jos. He doesn’t say it out loud but he sees it in his eyes when Max says certain things.

His father always hated his decision to become an author. He told him he’d never make it big, and that he should stick to children books since he can’t write anything above a fourth grade reading level.

Despite the success of Jimmy&Sassy, he still feels that his father was right when he ignores his other projects to write about two cats stopping a parrot crime lord from taking over the world.

“Get a dictionary? Do you hear yourself?” Charles crouches next to him,

“It’s not just this, you have so many sentences that are out of place. Most of it feels like it should be in another book-“

Max rolls his eyes, “Charles-“

“I know you’ve been working on a side project,” Charles presses on.

“Charles I’m not-“

“Don’t even lie, I see you writing sometimes.” He smiles cheekily at him.

Max frowns. It’s true.

Charles looks at him still and Max chooses to ignore him, highlighting discontent and remorseful instead.

Charles stands and cracks his back. Max watches out of the corner of his eye as he takes his seat next to the window infront of his tablet. He picks up his pen and goes through the motion of sketching potential covers for the new book.

Max shakes his head and stares at the screen.

He highlights some more,

Deluded, rampant, languid.

Charles hums some stupid song, smile on his face. Max groans.

“Fine!”

“What’s that Max?” Charles looks at him, batting his eyes.

“Maybe I need an editor,” he mumbles.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you?” Charles responds. A big smile on his face.

Max angrily clicks save, “You heard me!”

Charles giggles, actually giggles, and grabs his phone.

“I’ll send you his info.”

“You already have someone? Is he even credible? Has he done editing before?”

Charles doesn’t bother looking at him and just continues typing, “He’s a friend of Jules”

Max blinks. Jules Bianchi, famous romance author, and Charles’ godfather. Max assumes that the guy edits stuff for Jules, so he must be good.

He closes his laptop and sets it down. His phones pings and he sees it’s the contact information for a Danny Ric .

He would email him later.

….

On Ao3 here

[wifelinkmtg]

Cruel Angel’s Thesis intensifies

Technically, it’s “Kamigawa: Neon Dynasty” and not “Neon Dynasty Kamigawa” but only the latter facilitates “get in the robot, Shinji” jokes when you tap your pilot token to crew your Thundersteel Colossus, so. Anyway, none of the mecha cards are relevant to this project - it would have been too much to hope for a POWER DoLLS situation - so really, the moral of the story is that I should have saved the Samurai Jack title joke for this edition.

TODAY ON WIFELINK: GUSHING ABOUT CYBERPUNK FANTASY JAPAN

NDK was a great set, you have to understand. Do you remember how one of the few unequivocally good things about Legend of Korra was this project of imagining a 1920s industrial setting derived from (mostly) East Asian art and architecture? Yeah, similar story here. Just one example: the Imperial mecha look like someone did origami to sheet metal, which is super cool and lends their faction a distinct visual identity. The art in this set is gorgeous - soaring architecture, grungy neon alleyways, sick cyborgs, spirits (in the original Kamigawa block, spirits had some of the weirdest creature designs Magic had ever had, and this continues that legacy) - sagas! saga art is in-universe visual representation of a story that’s important to the people of the world, and NDK sagas are told on ornamental fans, wall scrolls, porcelain jugs, the carved hilt of a katana, a silk dress, in a leaf carving and vector graphics AND, the best saga art ever, on the back of a biker rat’s leather jacket. (I would be remiss at this point not to recommend Rhystic Studies’ extremely good video on sagas.)

And the mechanics! Sagas turn into creatures when the story is over, sort of living memories. Ninjutsu made a triumphant return, the channel mechanic multiplied interesting choices, and so did the reconfigure mechanic, which let you either use a mechanical centipede as a whip attached to one of your creatures, or let it operate autonomously as a creature in its own right (which led to one of the best type lines in MtG: “Legendary Artifact Creature - Equipment Jellyfish.”)

The draft environment - and I know I’m way off-topic here, but I’m about to say some mildly unkind things about this set and I need to preface it - the draft environment was the best I’ve ever encountered. There were so many different viable archetypes, so many different cool choices you could make during drafts and gameplay. The blue-black ninjas deck, fast red-black artifact sacrifice, recursive green-white enchantments - all felt powerful and fun. The whole set was flavorful and compelling, and there are not that many good wifelink hits, I’m sorry to say.

THE QUALITY OF A MAGIC THE GATHERING SET IN TERMS OF THIS PROJECT IS NOT AN IMPORTANT INDICATOR OF OVERALL SET QUALITY

Heiko Yamazaki, the General (art by Magali Villeneuve)

Heiko makes it where her cousin Norika (also by Villeneuve) doesn’t for two reasons: one is that I find Heiko’s broody expression indicative of a rich and stormy internal life, which always hits me like the smoky scent of a fine scotch or a cup of lapsang souchong. A woman with inner turmoil draws me like a moth to a bug-zapper, which I suppose is why I keep getting into trouble with older women in troubled relationships. “If I simply provide enough unpaid therapy, she’ll leave her abusive husband back in [REDACTED FORMER SOVIET REPUBLIC] & also the closet she’s been in for forty-five years & stay in the United States with me!” Yeah, that’ll happen, idiot.

The other reason is that Norika is a cop.

Tamiyo, Compleated Sage (art by Chris Rahn)

There are a lot of planeswalkers I don’t care about, personally, and I’m not only talking about the male ones. If I’m being honest, my engagement with Magic story has always been kind of shallow on account of Magic story is frequently (but not always!) bad. Like, pursuant to the previous entry, I did enjoy the apparently-uncredited story about the Yamazakis Wizards published back in February. It’s compelling! There’s juice to that relationship. We will never get anything else about these characters.

See, it turns out that the incentives of creating a collectible card game are not terribly aligned with those of creating rich long-form fantasy stories. Novelty sells cards. We hop around. Those few characters who do enjoy a prolonged spotlight often wilt under the attention as we all collectively get sick to death of the fucking Gatewatch or whoever else. Magic the Gathering is still compelling media, or else why would I be doing this, but to me it’s a kaleidoscopic whirl of mostly detached ideas, characters, settings, and vibes.

ALL OF WHICH IS TO SAY that I never knew much or cared to about Tamiyo. She was some nerd from Kamigawa who didn’t save Avacyn, whatever. Then the Phyrexians got her and turned her into an ichor-weeping cyborg brainwashed into working toward the universal expansion of New Phyrexia, a biomechanical plane of horror, corruption, and ego death, so now she’s hot!

Go-Shintai of Hidden Cruelty (art by Johannes Voss)

I don’t think I can explain this one, to be honest. Sometimes you just wanna get fucked up by a magical bone machine.

I KNOW THIS ONE HAS BEEN REALLY TALKY ALREADY BUT I GOT SOME BEHIND-THE-SCENES STUFF TO SAY AND A SET WITH ONLY THREE HITS SEEMS AS GOOD A PLACE AS ANY

Well, only three hits that I can find high-quality images of for. I suppose I could be using card rips of Tia Masic’s Moon-Circuit Hacker (reminiscent of my introduction to cyberpunk via Shadowrun, a bad setting paired with a bad system which nevertheless compelled me to consume more cyberpunk, most of it also bad) or Wisnu Tan’s Spring-Leaf Avenger (a delightful vaguely-orchid-mantis bug ninja) but that would look like

and

...oh wait that actually looks fine, at least to me on desktop. Okay, then, I’ll incorporate those into my strategy as an acceptable last resort going forward. Actually, while I’m at it:

Junji, the Midnight Sky (art by Chase Stone)

The dragon’s hot, man, I don’t know what to tell you.

THE OTHER THING IS ABOUT WHAT WE WILL GENEROUSLY CALL AN “UPDATE SCHEDULE”

Phyrexia: All Will Be One releases the second week in February and I am goddamn well going to review that as soon as it’s out, because I played Cyberqueen at the young and impressionable age of twenty-two and now “quasi-omnipotent dominatrix corrupts you into a biomechanical horror ecstatically enslaved to her will” is the hottest thing I will ever get out of Magic: the Gathering unless Ashiok decides to start force-femming planeswalkers, so I am going to be tearing through one set a week for the next three weeks.

Next time is New Capenna, the Art Deco Metropolis of organized crime, bad draft experiences, and well-muscled arms, followed by a return to Dominaria where my excitement for more Phyrexians will be tempered by the fact that my favorite characters from the last Dominaria set are not quite so hot this time round.

[rgrdsalxndra]

20 Questions: Fanfiction Author Edition

Tagged by the wonderful miss @cicinicole-14

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

187.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,610,309

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Law & Order SVU (and OC)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Getting to Know You

Mastaba

Love You Still

In Treatment

Meet the Parent(s)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I generally do try to respond to all comments. If you take the time to write me more than "Update soon!" or "I love this" I will respond in kind. Not that I don't appreciate the "I love this" comments, but the "Update soons!" on a recent chapter kinda drive me a little crazy.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

One that both lives and dies in my drafts. I don't know if I could have the heart to publish something that doesn't have a happy ending. There's too much of that in the world already.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Love Sometimes Steals Into A Heart

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Sometimes.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes. I try to branch out into various kinds.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

With another fandom? I have a Addison Shepherd/Olivia Benson ship that I haven't shared with the world but in glimpses in "Neglected Spaces"... and I did write that one crossover with Chicago.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think I have... but if I have, I'm relying on my friends to tell me so I can report it. People pour their hearts and souls and creative blood into fics and if you steal it, you're the scum of the earth.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes. I love working together with another creative mind and weaving words together. It's fun and sometimes makes you glance at things from different angles.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Currently? It's EO. (ElliotxOlivia) but I've got to say that Burzek is a close #2 but they need more fics.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

It's my goal to finish ALL WIPS before I fade into oblivion one day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at putting you there in the moment. But honestly? I think half of everything I write is shit, but I love writing so I selfishly write the stories that I want to read (and don't read them after they're finished).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I CANNOT WRITE A ONE-SHOT TO SAVE MY LIFE.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Only if it's because they're travelling somewhere and communication in the other language is absolutely necessary but I'd want to find a fluent speaker to double-check.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

It's a split between these three: Call It Bittersweet

Christmas Ghosts: An EO Christmas Carol

and DEAR YOU, LOVE ME

I'm supposed to tag people. But I hate tagging others. I never know how many times they've been tagged.

[wr1t3w1tm3]

Live Blogging My Reaction as I edit a Fic - Part 1

The fic is SEAWOLF on AO3. I'll link it at the bottom of this page.

First, I'm not even sure I want to keep the current story line. Currently the main OC - Theresa - is Rooster's kid but she may become Mav's kid in the rewrite.

Secondly... I'm copy and pasting this from AO3, so I'm gonna have to format.

Third: I'm editing the first chapter, but there is a chapter before that in the book that I'll edit at the end (bear with me). The link below is the link from Chapter 1, not the dossier.

Just changed my page layout to match what an average book setup would be and ooooohhh, pretty!

"A couple of nights later, Rooster learns why they got certified."

First line. This was a reference to a cut prologue which I published as a one-shot. In the early to mid-plot plan this was important. Now it's not.

Getting rid of these details is killing me, but there's so much superfluous stuff. It has to go. I have the original copy saved somewhere.

Just spent forever figuring out how to get rid of the spaces between paragraphs in google docs. Maybe I should've done this in word...

I really needed to declutter this chapter. At this point I'm just smoothing everything over.

Damn it, now I wanna split the chapter.

Ya'll I was in AP English in HS. I have spell check. I just can't spell worth shit.

I've always prided myself on realistic dialogue, but sometimes it's hard to differentiate my dialogue between characters because obviously, I'm a college student. I have one experience. But I'm working with characters that can't know normal college lingo. So I'm working on that while doing this and... it's a bit rough.

I was definitely trying to flex my limited medical and anatomical knowledge with this. Trying to be humbler now... but I actually have my CNA and Med Tech so...

Mmmm... I like hurting characters a bit too much.

Should I add page numbers now or...

*I'm hurting Rooster a lot. I like teenage trauma a bit too much...

Head canon: Carole had breast cancer which came back as breast as ovarian cancer after a couple years remission and thats what eventually killed her. This is due to the BRACA1 mutation, which wasn't well known until the 2010's ish. (BRACA1/BRACA2 will have implications down the line.)

My phones at 15% and my computers getting close and it's almost my bedtime. Can I finish the new chapter 1 in time?

This time I actually described the transformation. Kinda avoided that with the first draft.

In the og draft they didn't even call 911, but now they did so I guess the EMS guys are gonna show up this time.

That's all for tonight. Nearly done with new chapter one.

With the book page format, I'm at approx. 8 pages (7 full with like, 1/8 of the 8th filled) and 2,169 words. For reference, the original first chapter has 3,805 words. I think splitting will be the right decision because this book got big fast when I initially wrote it and I have got to get it down.

Is not a bad time to mention that it's also an Ice!Lives fic?

Original Fic link, as promised:

I know it says chapter two but it is really chapter one.